


never felt clean, your timing was perfect

by jflawless



Category: GOT7
Genre: Homosexual slurs, M/M, Swearing, light mentions of physical violence, some mentions of bullying, vague mentions of minor sexual acts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3240032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jflawless/pseuds/jflawless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i.<br/>jackson is five years old when he’s convinced he’s discovered the secret to love. it’s not much of a secret, he thinks, watching his parents exchange blatant “i love you”s only to quietly prove it later in subtle actions.</p><p>you like someone. you’re nice to them. they like you too. it’s the simplest thing he’ll ever do, he thinks, falling in love. a lot easier than tying his shoes or adding double digits or reading without his mom there  to pronounce the really long words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never felt clean, your timing was perfect

i.

jackson is five years old when he’s convinced he’s discovered the secret to love. it’s not much of a secret, he thinks, watching his parents exchange blatant “i love you”s only to quietly prove it later in subtle actions.

you like someone. you’re nice to them. they like you too. it’s the simplest thing he’ll ever do, he thinks, falling in love. a lot easier than tying his shoes or adding double digits or reading without his mom there  to pronounce the really long words.

he regards himself in the mirror, not even four foot tall, tanned skin, his hair recently buzzed after he got lice from a girl in daycare, and thinks he’s pretty cute. his mom tells him he’s pretty cute, and she’s never lied to him before.

he thinks he’s pretty cute, and all the teachers at his new school praise his manners, and he’s nice to everyone he meets, even the ones his mommy tells him he shouldn’t talk to, the ones she labels “strangers”. he looks at himself and thinks there’s no reason not to love him.

ii.

jackson is in second grade when he has his first crush.

her name is lila and she’s two inches shorter than him and she’s always got bandaids on her knees and the skirts of her dresses dance with every move and jackson tells his mom that he is in love the day after he meets her.

he greets her every morning with an excited “hello” and she usually ignores him, but sometimes if her friends aren’t around she’ll let him chase her through the field around the playground during recess, and she usually waits until she thinks he isn’t looking anymore to throw away the dandelions that he offers her because he is eight and can’t afford real flowers.

jackson is in second grade when he finds out that, no matter how nice you are, they don’t have to like you back.

iii.

jackson figures out the fatal flaw in his original theory, and edits.

you like someone, you are kind to them. they are kind back, they like you too.

lila was never very nice to him.

iv.

jackson is in eighth grade when he has his first crush on a boy.

sammy is his best friend and two inches shorter than him and he wears t-shirts depicting the names of bands that jackson’s never heard but always loves once he listens to them.

jackson helps him with his homework and slips his favorite candies into his locker and they ride bikes down to the river together after school when it’s warm and they talk for hours about themselves and about their families and about kids at school and about science and about the novel that sammy is reading because even though he’s really bad at math and has trouble focusing in any class that isn’t gym, he  _loves_  to read and jackson loves the excited passion that paints his tone whenever he talks about his latest book and thinks he could probably listens for hours.

sammy walks jackson to and from classes and gives him half his sandwich when jackson forgets to grab his lunch off the counter and he lets jackson gush about fencing even though they both know sammy doesn’t really care that much. he reads to jackson sometimes and jackson loves sammy’s voice so much he doesn’t even have it in him to be jealous that his is still a little too high and cracks a little too often. sammy compliments jackson on his strong thighs, the one feature he has he’s most proud of, and comes to every fencing tournament just to cheer him on.

v.

jackson likes sammy. jackson is nice to sammy. sammy is nice to jackson. sammy must like jackson too.

jackson does not consider attraction or status or gender. jackson considers the pleasant flip of his stomach as sammy’s fingers accidentally brush his when they walk side by side. jackson considers the way he cannot keep a smile off his face when he shuts his locker to find sammy waiting for him on the other side. he considers the way his heart races excitedly when he thinks about kissing sammy.

jackson does not think about repercussions or rejection, jackson thinks, i like you, i am pretty cute, i am polite, i am kind to everyone i meet, what is there not to love?

vi.

when jackson is in eighth grade, he gets his nose broken for the first time.

vii.

when jackson is in eighth grade, he gets his heart broken for the first time.

viii.

when jackson is in eighth grade, he gets his nose broken right before he gets his heart broken and he gets the word “faggot” spit into his bloody face day after day until he cannot walk the halls of his school without the weight of fear dragging down his shoulders.

when jackson is in eighth grade, he learns, again, that just because you like someone, they do not have to like you back. he learns a new lesson, too, that just because someone is nice to you, and you like them, does not mean they have to like you back. he learns his most important lesson. when you are a boy, and he is also a boy, you never should’ve liked him in the first place.

ix.

the bullying gets worse.

jackson cannot be awake without being scared.

jackson moves to a new school eighteen miles away where no one has ever heard his name and no one calls him faggot and no one trips him in the halls or slams lockers into his face and no one holds his arms behind his back while he screams for help and three other boys deliver blows to his chest until he stops.

x.

jackson will not fall in love with another boy.

chris is two inches shorter than him and wears beanies and baggy hoodies and always smells vaguely of pot even though jackson never sees him smoking it. he sits with jackson at lunch and laughs at all his bad jokes and sometimes tells him he looks cute when there’s a lull in the conversation and they’re completely alone.

he tells himself “no”, thinks about how the fist in his face seconds after his first kiss felt, thinks about the first boy he loved  shoving him to the ground and calling him every mean word for gay that jackson could ever think of and a lot that he couldn’t. he lets himself remember sammy for the first time in a year and he lets himself remember fear and pain and heartbreak and he tells himself that boys do not love boys.

xi.

jackson’s mind reminds him he cannot like a boy. jackson’s heart says he loves another boy.

xii.

chris loves jackson too.

xiii.

in eleventh grade, jackson finds out that a boy can love another boy, but that he will only love you at two a.m on his dirty floor when everyone else is asleep and there is no one there to hear it.

he will love you with his hand down your pants and he will love you when you have his cock down your throat and he will love you in sloppy kisses that he wipes off as soon as you’re done.

he will not love you in words and he will not love you in public and he will not love you in held hands or soft pecks or affectionate touches and he will not even love you in neighboring seats in a dark movie theater and that breaks jackson as much as a punch in the mouth and a dirty word that he never wants to hear again.

xiv.

jackson does hear it again, that word, that horrible fucking word, “faggot”. he hears it here and there, never directed at him because he no longer likes boys and he will not allow himself to ever like another boy, but it’s said in passing and in jest and every time jackson feels like a boy in love behind the bleachers during a middle school gym class with a bloody nose and a broken heart and fear rushing through his veins.

xvi.

jackson goes to school. jackson fences. jackson practices hard.

jackson will not fall in love with a boy.

xvii.

jackson gets chosen to be a trainee at a korean entertainment company.

jackson goes. jackson trains hard. jackson works instead of sleeps.

jackson will not fall in love with a boy.

xviii.

jackson meets two other trainees.

one is named bambam. he is small and speaks so quickly that jackson can’t follow. he’s from thailand, he’s not very good at korean either. he’s a few years younger than jackson.

the other is named mark. he is two inches taller than jackson and a year older and he is from america. he’s a little better at korean than jackson, and they’re both better than bambam, but jackson doesn’t care at all about korean when he and mark are having whispered conversations in rapid english about anything they can think of and for the first time in years jackson doesn’t feel so lonely.

xix.

jackson will not fall in love with a boy.

xx.

jackson and mark are breathing heavily on opposite ends of a stage as their first debut performance as got7 comes to an end, and as soon as the sound fades out jackson looks over.

mark’s forehead is glistening with sweat under the bright lights and the gel keeping his hair sticking up is starting to lose its hold and he is wearing the widest and most radiant smile and jackson is struck by the fact that mark is the prettiest boy in the universe.

jackson is in love with another boy.

xxi.

jackson is in love with mark but he will not admit it, even to himself. he ignores the rushes of excitement and the constant butterflies and his quickening pulse and the soft itch in his hands to hold mark’s.

jackson is in love with mark but he will not admit it, even to himself, because mark is beautiful and kind, but you do not fall in love with boys, and even the kind ones will stomp on your heart and break your bones when they find out about you.

xxii.

“i had my first crush when i was in second grade,” jackson tells mark quietly, one night, as they lay side by side on their pushed together mats in their shared dorm room, huddled up underneath all the blankets they own after the heater cut out when the power outage began late in the afternoon, “i used to give her dandelions every day and one day, she told me she would kiss me if i ate one, and i did, and she did not kiss me, but laughed, and then i threw up five times.”

mark laughs quietly and teases him and presses his cold toes against jackson’s shin.

“i used to think that was how it worked,” jackson tells him a little later, his mind wandering while mark moves closer and closer into the warmth of his body until they are entirely pressed together, “that you liked someone, and you were nice to them, so then they liked you too.”

“isn’t that how it works?” mark asks softly, and it takes jackson a while to reply, because while that may be mark’s experience, it has never been his.

“well, in eighth grade, i liked a boy for the first time,” mark doesn’t react in any significant way, even though jackson pauses for too long, waiting to see what mark will say as he quietly outs himself on a rainy evening, waiting for the heart stomping and the bone breaking that he always expects and usually receives.

mark does not stomp on his heart or break his bones, but he does sneak his hands under jackson’s t-shirt to press his cold palms against the warm skin over jackson’s hip bones, and drops his head onto jackson’s shoulder, waiting for him to speak again.

“i liked a boy for the first time in eighth grade, and i found out, sometimes you like someone, and you are nice to them, and you think they like you too, so you kiss them behind the bleachers during a soccer game in seventh period gym class and they punch you in the face, call you a faggot, and tell everyone who will listen exactly what you did until you have to move districts just to feel safe again.”

xxiii.

mark finds out about him and mark does not hate him.

mark finds out about him and jackson does not get another broken nose or lose another friend or hear the word faggot or poof or fairy or homo but he hears a voice shaking with anger telling him, for the first time in his whole life, that he has done nothing wrong, and that he is allowed to love a boy.

xxiv.

mark gives him permission so jackson allows himself to love mark, admits that the feelings have been there for a while, but only to himself. he does not tell mark. he will not tell mark. mark is his friend, and mark is kind to him, and jackson likes him, and jackson is kind to him, but jackson has grown up since he was five and thought that was all he needed. mark does not love him, and mark will not love him, because boys do not often love other boys, and boys especially do not love jackson.

xxv.

jackson tells mark on accident. mark’s head is in his lap while they take a break from practicing their duo act for an upcoming tour, the studio empty other than the two of them, and he is telling jackson a story and playing with the fingers of jackson’s hand that was resting on his knee, and he is looking up at jackson with a smile like the sun.

jackson would rather go blind than ever look away.

the words “i’m in love with you” come tumbling out before jackson can even think to try and stop them, and as soon as they do, he is flinching.

he flinches, waiting for the inevitable. he waits for a hand to bruise his face, for mark to tell their members, their managers, their ceo, the media, for him to be dropped from the company and kicked out of korea so he can go back to his doorstep and tell his mom that he did the worst thing he could do.

the weight of mark’s head leaves his lap and he can no longer feel the tip of mark’s finger tracing the lines of his palm and his body is tensed, eyes squeezed shut as he prepares for the blow.

before he can follow up his accidental confession with a choked “i’m sorry”, there are lips on his and mark is kissing him. mark kisses his lips, slow and soft, and then a little rougher, and then he pulls away and peppers kisses across jackson’s cheek bones and down his jaw line and then there is one on his forehead, and then his forehead is pressing into mark’s neck after mark has pulled him into a tight hug and is cradling jackson’s head against his shoulder.

there are gentle hands petting the short hair on the back of his head and quiet “it’s okay”s whispered in his ear and it is not until mark adjusts their position enough to swipe his thumb across jackson’s cheek that jackson realizes he is crying. mark drags him back in and holds him tightly and whispers, “you are allowed to love me.”

xxvi.

jackson thinks he’s pretty cute, and he’s got great manners, and he’s kind to everyone he meets, and there is no reason not to love him, so mark does.

xxvii.

jackson loves mark. jackson is nice to mark. mark is nice to jackson. mark loves jackson.

jackson finds out that these are not mutually inclusive, but this time, they happen to all be true.

xxiii.

mark does not hide jackson away from public eyes and mark does not act as if he does not exist outside the confines of quickies on the floor of a bedroom every saturday night.

mark holds his hand and presses in close to jackson and calls him handsome into a microphone on a stage in front of thousands of people and they dance together and they sing together and mark gets away with everything he wants by throwing around the word skinship during interviews.

mark kisses him whenever no one is looking, and sometimes when they are, and cuddles him on the couch while yugyeom mimes puking whenever mark looks at jackson like he’s the best thing in the world.

xxix.

jackson is not a punching bag for the entire football team, he is not a dirty little secret, he is not  _wrong_.

jackson is a boyfriend.

xxx.

jackson is in love with mark, and mark is in love with jackson, and that’s okay, because  _boys are allowed to love boys_.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on jacksnwangs.tumblr.com


End file.
